The Return of the Fifth Stone

by Vincent Todarello

  "Act three in the story of Loula and Tillius," he squeaked with a bow. "A visit from the king."

  The actors played the part of Loula, Tillius and the king. Loula held a bundle of pink colored fabrics close to her chest, representing a newly born baby girl. From my understanding of the ancient times, their children were the four daughters that helped the pure spread and thrive throughout early Haareti history, after Loula left the impure Enasz.

  The audience responded with light applause, and the Uhaareti narrator exited the stage behind a curtain along with the actor playing the king. I assumed I missed the first two acts. Likely they depicted Loula leaving Enasz and Tillius rescuing Loula in the cliffs, bringing her back to a life of purity.

  A screen dropped in front of the curtain, and on it was a painting of the side of a cabin and a nearby tree. Loula and Tillius stood on the stage, gazing down upon their newly born daughter.

  Loula swooned. "At last we have a child, my love."

  "Yes. A beautiful baby girl," Tillius announced with pride. "And may she bring hope for the fate of the pure Ahaareti. You rest my dear. I shall fetch you some warm soup to aid in your recovery."

  She responded with a smile as Tillius exited the stage. Loula sat down and leaned against a tree, closing her eyes to rest. A moment later, the king entered the stage from the other side. His presence was accompanied by a long and loud applause from the audience. He wore a shiny, ornate silver crown and flowing red robes. Loula was unaware of his presence.

  "Congratulations on the birth of your daughter," he said, startling her.

  "Your highness," she said as she stood up with a bow. She then straightened her posture to stand properly before him. "I did not know you were there."

  "But I am always here," he responded with open arms, receiving a hearty laugh as he looked out into the audience.

  "To what end do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" she asked.

  "I have come to ask something of you," he said.

  "Of course. Anything. What is it you want?"

  "I would like to take your daughter with me and raise her as my own in another land," he said.

  "As punishment for my impure transgressions," she assumed.

  "No, for that you are forgiven. No, I ask that you give your daughter to me by your own free will as a sign of your commitment," he explained.

  Loula's brow furrowed with confusion and thought. After a moment she blurted out a question. "But what about the pure? She needs to stay here to help the pure lines to flourish."

  "Am I not pure? Do you not trust your own king?" he asked.

  "I trust you, good king, but surely I must consider the decision with Tillius. After all, the child belongs to him as well as me," she reasoned.

  "That may be, but this is one decision that you must make alone," he said.

  Loula was visibly heartbroken and torn. She stood in silence before the king, unsure of what to do. "The food is ready. I'll be right there," Tillius called out from off stage.

  "You have until sundown this evening to decide. I will be at the eastern shore of Lake Channus then if you choose to meet me," said the king.

  "Very well," she said.

  "And you must not speak of this to Tillius," the king warned before exiting the stage.

  A moment later Tillius returned to the stage carrying a steaming bowl of soup. He noticed her changed demeanor when he brought it to her.

  "What is it? What is wrong?" he asked.

  "Oh nothing," Loula responded with a jump, returning to her happiness. "Thank you for the stew."

  Together they looked upon their child in delight as they both walked off the stage. After a moment another screen dropped down. On it was a painting that depicted a setting sun behind a lake. Loula entered the stage, alone, holding her daughter. She looked around for the king, who emerged from the other side of the curtain shortly after.

  "You've made a wise decision," said the king with a broad smile.

  "Please take good care of her, your highness," she implored. "And wish me good fortune in explaining her absence to Tillius." She reached her arms out to hand the child to the king.

  "You won't have to," he responded.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I do not wish to take your daughter from you. You have demonstrated your trust in me and your dedication to a pure life. For this I commend you. May your marriage to Tillius be blessed with as many more daughters as there are sons in the pure lines," he said.

  "Thank you, your highness," she said. "Thank you so much."

  "Go back to Tillius now, and take much joy in raising your daughter."

  The actors turned and faced the crowd, bowing. Then Tillius joined them, bowing as well. Finally the narrator came out and bowed. The audience cheered and applauded, and the impish narrator made another announcement.

  "That concludes the story of Loula and Tillius. Come back later for the story of Ver’Deiro. And don't forget to show your appreciation by dropping a silver coin, or ten, into the box beside the stage," he added.

  I made a donation with the rest of my winnings at stones. I thought they had done an excellent job, and I wished to see their later performance as well. I thumbed through the Hope on my way back to Patreus and the others, and I found that the play was based on some passages written in the historical chapters about the ancients. The play seemed to have been a true story.

  When I got back to the others, they were circle-dancing to the merry minstrel melodies of the nearby musicians. Haareti of all ages joined in the dance, as did I. There were smiles, laughs, and hugs all around. One man even danced while carrying a mug of ale, spilling it on himself with careless glee as he bounced and bounded about, waving a turkey leg with his other hand, orchestrating the dancers as would a lead minstrel.

  Soon after, the music changed and became slow. It was then that couples swayed softly, embracing each other to the soft tunes. Mothers and fathers danced, husbands and wives, young couples, children, even Peitus danced with Allewyn.

  I saw Lunaris standing by herself watching the others dance, so I went to her and presented her with the bracelet. Her eyes lit up with joy, so I asked her to join me for a dance. We swayed hand in hand and with arms around each other. We danced together, smiling and looking into each other's eyes. I held her tight against me, and I felt her heart beating at a quickened pace, just like mine. She clasped her hands up around the back of my neck, her fingers gently flipping my hair between them. I dropped my hands slowly, feeling the curve of her torso as I held her around her waist.

  As the song came to an end, she closed her eyes, leaned in closer and kissed my lips. We stood there for a moment, frozen together in happiness as the next song began. My heart pounded so loud now I could almost hear it. My thoughts escaped me and I was at peace during the exhilaration, but then my mind went to the prophecy.

  If I was to die, then what would that mean for us? Would our falling in love only cause her pain in the end, sadness over losing me? I pulled away, confused. Lunaris looked at me strangely. I wanted to tell her, but I wasn’t sure that I should. My heart still raced for her. I wanted her, but I didn’t want to hurt her.

  I opened my mouth to say something but there was a loud shriek that cut across the clearing. The music abruptly stopped and suddenly the air was filled with panic instead of joy and delight. The thuds in my ears grew louder and proved not to be my heart but rather something more dreadful. A pack of ten warbears barreled through the thicket. They were ridden like horses by hideous and gnarled groundsmen dressed in battle gear wielding axes, maces and swords. They slashed and swung with reckless, random haste, their mounts only stopping occasionally to devour their kills with vicious blood lust. Swords sliced men in half, axes lopped off limbs, and maces mangled the innocent. No one was safe. Even the women and children were targeted by this horrific mob.

  The warbears flattened the thicket, making way for the small army of raven-crested soldiers that followed behind them to march in with ease. I qui
ckly noticed the Haareti leading the charge. It was Hadlick; the malformed one I had seen back on the other side of the Great Divide.

  Frightened Haareti scattered everywhere, running into Hem'l Canopy, hiding under tables, and screaming in fear. Other Haareti ran toward the danger with their swords drawn, ready for battle.

  I saw one such brave Ahaareti who was overpowered by three impure soldiers. They held him down and tried to force him to drink from a shimmering jug of liquid that I presumed was filled with the forbidden waters of the Fountain of Power. When the man refused, they pried his mouth open to dump the water in. Much to their surprise, however, the water spilled all around his mouth as if by magic. It was like the water had a mind of its own and would not go into the man's mouth against his will.

  Startled, the three soldiers stood up and backed away, not understanding what was happening. Then the Ahaareti man stood up and ran toward the darkness of the Hem'l Canopy, escaping his death.

  Lunaris held me tight around my waist, scared. I noticed that Patreus, Gerron and Kalvis were nearby with their swords drawn, fighting the corrupt five and six at a time. Peitus and Deius were fighting as well. Deius' skill had improved greatly and he was moving with speed and precision.

  "I must help them," I said to Lunaris in the confusion.

  "Be careful!" she cried out as I ran up beside Patreus, unsheathing the sword from my back.

  Then I heard a repeated low and deep swoosh sound, and a shadow filled the clearing that had become a bloodied battlefield. I looked up to see a giant winged lizor hovering above. His long tail whipped and lashed wildly, as if excited by the destruction below. It roared and lifted its horned head ominously. Its red scales glinted in the sun like rubies as it forced out breaths of shooting flames across the field. The beating leathery wings acted like bellows to the fire, fanning the flames to keep them alive as Haareti died below. Tables and tents caught fire, and Haareti were running and screaming about. One man's clothing caught fire but he quickly rolled on the ground to put out the flames. Others were burned alive, and many brave men had already fallen in battle.

  Patreus looked around to see the doom that had overtaken the festival. "We must retreat. There can be no victory here. We are severely outnumbered. Run to the canopy at once!" he commanded.

  "Retreat! Retreat!" yelled Gerron to the fighting pure.

  At once the pure began to run toward the darkness of Hem'l Canopy to escape and hide. We all ran. Mindful of each other, we gathered Lunaris, who had found Fiama, and the family was all together again as we ran into Hem'l Canopy. But not Peitus. He stayed there, fighting. Over and over he called out for Allewyn, who was nowhere to be found once the commotion began. He fought with every ounce of strength he could muster, until flames nearly enveloped him. He dove out of the way. I could feel the heat from where we were. Barely escaping a crisped fate, he ran to us and we all continued toward the woods.

  As we ran toward the canopy I watched over my shoulder as the winged beast landed on the ground. The monster was dismounted by a hooded figure, and when he removed his hood, I thought it looked like Hadut the Betrayer, now Hadut the Soul Collector. Through all the commotion I could not see clearly, but his stature was distinct to me.

  Then I saw a horde of weaponless barbarians sprinting out from the thicket toward the bodies of the fallen. My eyes caught a grotesque glimpse as they began to gnaw and tear into them with their hands and teeth, chewing and ripping at their flesh, clawing away at their meal. They were eating the dead. Some were even still alive as they were devoured. I nearly retched when I began to question our decision to leave Hadut alive in the woods behind Patreus’ farm, seeing that he commanded such villainy. I couldn't help but wonder if Bellock was right about Felgor. It was Felgor who reasoned that Hadut should be left alive back in the woods by our farms; perhaps they were in league with one another. I dreaded the thought of Felgor as a soldier for the impure.

  Patreus picked up a large plank of wood that was burning, and he was using it like a torch. As we ran deeper and deeper into Hem'l, there was less and less light to guide our way, so we needed it to maneuver through the dense wood. As we ran we heard the nearby echoes of grunts and moans. There could be no stopping. No pause for rest, or we would be overtaken by the soulless drones of Scievah’s army.

  After what seemed like an eternity, we were out of the range of the impure, or they had not given chase that deep into the wood. There was no sight or sound of others who escaped the attack. The woods were too dark and thick to see much of anything. The trees blotted out the sun; there was no sky above. Only darkness. We pressed on, blindly, without any knowledge of which direction we were traveling.

  "Wait, wait," moaned Deius from a few strides behind. "I can't go on. I need to rest." He could barely get the words out.

  As we turned to him, he collapsed to the ground and fainted. Fiama quickly ran to him and Patreus brought the torch over. His shirt was bloodied. It seemed he was wounded in battle.

  "Deius! Deius!" Fiama called out with no response.

  Patreus checked him. "He is still breathing, and is heart is still beating."

  Then Peitus removed his shirt and used the fabric to dress Deius' wound. He put pressure on it and tied the shirt tightly around Deius' body to help slow the bleeding.

  "We have to go back. It's the only way to get him to a medic. With any luck there is someone at Kal'Adria who can tend to his wounds," Patreus said as he handed the torch to Peitus and examined Deius.

  "I don't recognize any of these plants," Fiama said as she looked around frantically for something on the ground that could be used to create a healing salve for Deius.

  "Perhaps I can help," I suggested, hoping that whatever I was able to do with Lunaris would help Deius as well. I knelt down beside him, held his hand, and concentrated on a memory of us from the past. I called out to him in my mind. "Can you hear me?" I asked. There was no reply. “Come back to us!" I urged him, but there was no answer. When I opened my eyes the others knew I had failed.

  "He's still alive," Patreus said. "We must hurry back to Kal'Adria. Pray that the impure have left the area," he said as he knelt down and picked up Deius in his arms.

  We tried to make our way back as best as we could. Unfortunately we soon lost our way in the darkness. The silence was overwhelming. Every few moments we heard rustling and scurrying. We were disturbing whatever animals lived here. I shuddered at the thought of the unknown beasts that could be living there in the darkness.

  "This place is maddening!" Peitus exclaimed in frustration.

  "Stay calm. Look for familiar things you may have seen along the way," Patreus said, trying to ease the panic.

  "I can barely see anything at all," said Lunaris.

  #

  Until it fizzled out, I hadn’t even realized that Patreus was carrying both the torch and Deius, who was slung over his shoulder like a sack of tambo root tubers. The flame flickered, its yellow blaze turning to a low glowing red ember before going completely dark. It was pitch black. There was no sign of light anywhere; a moonless night was bright in comparison to such darkness. Our eyes were useless. I waited, hoping for something to happen. Some hidden Uhaareti trait perhaps would emerge and help me to see in the dark and guide us to safety. Nothing. Several panicked moments passed. By then my eyes would have adjusted, I thought, if I was going to be able to see anything without the help of Patreus’ makeshift torchlight. I supposed I didn’t inherit all of the Uhaareti traits, or perhaps those woods were darker than the depths of Uhaaretu. I felt useless. First I could not help Deius, then this.

  I took the glowing blue rock from the riverbed out of my pocket, hoping it would provide some light, but it barely lit my fingertips while sitting in the center of my palm. The depth of the darkness was unnatural to me, even after having spent much time underground with no light. It was something magical that kept this place so dark.

  A throaty growl rumbled behind me and then echoed off the massive trees, bouncing a
ll around the woods, masking where it came from.

  Perhaps it was fear that jolted my memory, or perhaps it was just a survival instinct. I pulled my sword from its sheath. The metallic ringing of the blade shot back as I loosed it, cutting through the forest in response to the unseen threat that stalked us in the dark.

  Like a flash of lightning my blade lit the woods for an instant. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a pair of eyes reflecting the light in the distance, a pair of eyes that held an eerie green glow like that of an animal in the light of the moons. I turned to face it, but the eyes disappeared; like when I used to try to look at the Great Western Light star as a child.

  My blade was glowing a deep amber color, its light barely reaching the ground at my feet.

  “Good thinking Valdren,” said Peitus.

  “There. In the distance,” I said.

  The eyes seemed to disappear and reappear in different places, twinkling like a clear night sky, as if the animal was silently and swiftly moving around the woods. Another growl erupted from behind me, and I whipped the blade around to face it before losing the sound to the echoes of the woods. The blade lit up with a flash again as I spun around, and this time we all saw it. Them. Wolves of some kind. Massive. Grotesque. Salivating. Ready to strike. They all stood on two legs like men, muscular and bloodthirsty. They followed the scent and trail of Deius’ wounds. I saw trickles of blood on the ground leading up to our position.

  Suddenly one of them lunged at me with a leap that would have spanned three men lying head to toe. I reacted without thinking, slashing the blade across and downward from right to left. The blade burst into flames and roared through the air, ripping through the monster’s dark grey fur, sinking deep into its ribs. As my blade continued through, the beast let out a whimper that signaled its death. With my swing complete, and feeling as if I did not even make contact, I quickly realized that the blade severed its body in two, and before each half of it could even fall back to the ground, a beam of light shot out from its wound and vaporized the carcass into thousands of small explosions of light. All that was left were floating ashes. Its remains fluttered in the wind like a gentle glowing red snowfall. The smell of burnt hair lingered in the air.